Plan 9 from Channel 6
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Inspired by a comment from Harry2. April and Burne have had an argument and April has quit to go to Channel 9! But old enemies are lurking, waiting to strike once again, and nothing is quite as it seems.


**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **Plan 9 from Channel 6**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine! The story was inspired by a comment of Harry2's. The results are mine! This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.**

It was the day after the second press conference concerning Barney's state of being. Baxter was at his table, eating what looked like a large Hershey's bar, when Barney wandered into the kitchen. It seemed that Baxter flinched when he heard the footsteps. He hunched over the table, as if to try to conceal what he was eating.

Barney wondered if he was putting too much stock in Baxter's actions due to the last clinging effects of sleep. He raised a tired eyebrow. "You're eating that for breakfast?"

Baxter looked embarrassed. "I . . . I had a craving. . . ."

"I know you always had a sweet tooth, but I never saw you eat anything like that all at once," Barney remarked.

Baxter averted his gaze. "That was before. . . ."

"Before?" Barney prompted, still not understanding.

Baxter sighed. "Ever since I became fully human again, I've had these sugar cravings. Sometimes I can ignore them, but this one was too strong. . . ." He still sounded embarrassed, even hesitant and perhaps submissive.

Barney frowned. He hadn't imagined or put too much stock in anything. Baxter was afraid Barney might scold or berate him for being so "stupid." There were still a great many wounds of the past that needed mending. It would probably take a long time, if ever, before Baxter would let down his guard about such things.

Barney hated the thought that the damage might be permanent. But it was certainly understandable if it was, especially considering his knowledge of neuropsychology. He had been so thoughtless, so unkind, nearly every time they had met except some of the latest times. Recently he had started to feel that he was seeing things clearly for the first time in his life, and he wondered how he had ever managed to not see it before. Right now, instead of thinking Baxter was an idiot for craving sugar, Barney just felt sick.

He sat down across from Baxter at the table. "I had no idea. I never stopped to think about it, but it makes sense that you would have a problem like that."

Baxter looked up, his eyes filled with both amazement and relief.

That only made Barney feel worse. Just how badly had he hurt his brother through the years? He didn't remember more than half the things he had spouted off in anger or disgust, but he had the horrible feeling that Baxter remembered most, if not all.

Still, Barney didn't want to voice what he was thinking. ". . . Were there any other effects? Besides your fears of creatures that prey on flies, that is." He could never forget that.

Baxter slowly nodded. "Michelangelo told me that when I was first turned back and lay delirious, I said some things in another language. I think, deep down, I . . . remember the language of the flies. Consciously I can't remember at all, and I am perfectly fine with that."

"That's fascinating," Barney said. "If you could remember, it might open up communication between humans and flies."

Baxter had to smirk. "I don't think it would change much of anything. I'm sure the flies would continue to do whatever they pleased, no matter how the humans begged them not to."

Barney gave a dark chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised."

Baxter sobered again. ". . . I'm not terribly fond of the dark. I prefer brightly lit rooms. And I . . . have a little less tolerance for the cold than I used to. Nothing serious, but still slightly inconvenient."

Barney's expression darkened. "If I'd been able to build that retro-mutagen ray gun when you came to me for help, you could have been turned human again much sooner."

"You tried," Baxter said softly. "I'm sorry I accused you of failing on purpose. That was horrible of me."

"No, it wasn't. You had every reason to believe I would betray you like that." Barney got up from the table.

Baxter sighed. He had to admit that was probably true. But he still felt guilty about it. ". . . What are you going to do while I'm at work?" he asked.

"I'm building a solid energy generator for Vincent," Barney said. "He's never stopped longing to have a body again. Now that we're away from Shredder and Krang, it should be safe enough. At least if he only uses it inside."

"That's a great idea," Baxter said in surprise. "And maybe in the future you could make a robotic version."

"I'm considering it. It would certainly be a nicer long-term solution. But this should be workable for him in the meantime." Barney paused. "When I'm finished, I think it's time we go to my house. We've been here a couple of days now."

Baxter smiled sadly. He had known Barney wouldn't want to stay for very long. He supposed the apartment was rather crowded for both of them, but at least they hadn't fallen into any arguments. Barney had been subdued, really, although he had also shown some of his usual fire and blunt attitude. But unlike the past, this time it wasn't directed against Baxter, but in his favor.

Sometimes Baxter wondered, though, if even in the past Barney's harsh comments weren't always intended to be taken as cruelly as Baxter and even Barney had done. Barney had admitted that he had been frustrated with Baxter, feeling that he was going to get hurt. Barney's comments had hurt him too, but maybe even back then, they had been a form of protectiveness at least sometimes. Perhaps someday, after Barney had had more of a chance to sort out his thoughts and feelings, Baxter would ask. He wasn't sure if Barney would know the answer at this point.

"It's probably going to take you a while to get everything in order at your house," Baxter said. "Have you even been back since your release from prison?"

"Yes, but not since I joined Shredder and Krang," Barney answered.

"If you want some help, I'd be happy to come over," Baxter offered.

Barney paused but then nodded. "I'd like that."

Baxter looked happier. "If you've left by the time I come home tonight, I can drive over there."

"You'd probably be too exhausted to do much then," Barney pointed out.

"We'll see." Baxter stood and started out of the kitchen. "I should get going. Good morning, Vincent," he greeted when he saw that Vincent was awake in the living room.

"Good morning, Baxter, old pal," Vincent returned.

xxxx

Baxter was somewhat surprised when he arrived at Channel 6 and found Irma pressed up against Burne's closed door. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Irma jumped a mile. "Oh." She scrambled away from the door. "I was just . . . I wondered what was going on in there. Mr. Thompson called April in a few minutes ago and shut the door. It sounds like they're talking really low in there."

Without warning, angry voices boomed through the slab of wood.

"Is that your final answer then?!" Burne screamed.

"Yes!" April shot back. "I quit!"

The door flew open and April stormed out, her eyes flashing and her fists clenched.

Irma gaped at her friend. "April?! What's going on?!"

"Didn't you hear? I quit!" April retorted. "I'm going over to Channel 9. They have a position open for a new anchorwoman."

"But why on Earth are you quitting?" Baxter demanded.

"I don't want to talk about it." April paused, her expression softening as she looked at her friends. "I'm really going to miss you guys. At least we'll still see each other when we're helping the Turtles. . . ."

"I don't understand!" Irma cried. "I thought things were better lately between you and Mr. Thompson!"

"Well, they're not." April headed for her office. "I'm going to pack my things."

Burne came to his office doorway when April was gone. "Come here, you two," he said low to Irma and Baxter.

"Mr. Thompson, why is April leaving?!" Irma wailed.

"That's what I want to talk to you about." Burne stepped back. "Come inside now."

Irma and Baxter exchanged a confused look before they obeyed. Burne shut the door behind them.

Outside, Vernon came out of his office with a frown and walked over to April's office. "April, what's going on?" he demanded.

April didn't turn to face him. "I'm going to Channel 9," she said again. "I guess this will give you what you've always wanted, Vernon. You'll be the top reporter at Channel 6 now."

"But why?" Vernon exclaimed. "I thought you liked Channel 6 better."

"I decided it was time for a change," April said. She straightened and picked up her box of personal belongings. "I've already said Goodbye to Irma and Dr. Stockman. I guess I'll see you around." She walked past him into the hall.

"I still don't understand," Vernon said in bewilderment.

"I'm sure Mr. Thompson will be happy to tell you _all_ about it," April said.

Vernon stared after her as she headed for the elevator. There was a time when he would have jumped for joy over this opportunity to finally, fairly get April's job. Maybe part of him still would when it really sunk in. But right now he was just stunned and confused and . . . sad? He had started to get along better with April at long last and now she was leaving.

As the elevator closed, he slowly turned away and walked back to April's office.

xxxx

The Turtles and Splinter gathered around the television for the noon news, as they often did. But when Donatello turned on the set and Vernon was there without April, they sighed.

"Aww, April must be out on a big story today," Michelangelo frowned.

"Maybe we'll get to see her out in the field," Donatello said.

"At least Vernon's not as insufferable as he used to be," Leonardo said.

"Which still means he's insufferable to some extent," Raphael retorted.

"Good afternoon," Vernon intoned. "Many of you are probably wondering where April O'Neil is today. It is with mixed feelings that I bring you the news that last night's broadcast is the last time you will ever see April on Channel 6 News."

 _"WHAT?!"_ all the Turtles shrieked. Splinter looked appalled as well.

"April has . . . rather abruptly moved to Channel 9 to accept their anchorwoman position," Vernon continued. "Of course, that leaves me as Channel 6's star reporter. I realize it won't be easy to win over April's fans, but I will do my best. Channel 6's long-standing tradition of good, honest news will continue with me, Vernon Fenwick. And now, the day's news."

Donatello immediately flipped to Channel 9. April was standing at the anchor desk, confidently smiling at the screen. "Good afternoon. This is April O'Neil, reporting from Channel 9 for the first time." She offered no explanation for her presence and instead proceeded to deliver the afternoon news report.

"I don't believe this," Donatello said when the station broke for commercials.

"Seriously, Dude," Michelangelo frowned. "Why would April switch networks without telling us?!"

"I know she threatened to join Channel 9 a while back, but I thought she and Burne smoothed out their problems," Leonardo added.

"Why don't we just call her and find out?" Raphael took out his Turtle-Comm.

"It would be best to wait until the broadcast is over," Splinter said. "But it seems this was all very sudden. Perhaps there was no time to tell us first."

"April does kind of like to make split-second decisions sometimes," Michelangelo mused. "She probably didn't plan this."

They watched the rest of the broadcast before Raphael insisted on calling April. When she answered, she seemed both harried and nervous. "Hi, Raphael," she greeted. "I guess you're wondering about today's news."

"We sure are," Raphael retorted. "What the heck are you doing at Channel 9?!"

"I can't talk right now," April told him. "I have to go to an important meeting. Why don't you go see Irma and Dr. Stockman?"

"Do they know what's going on?" Raphael blinked.

"By now they probably do," April said wryly. "Look, I'll talk more later. Bye!" And the screen went dark.

Raphael frowned. "Well, that was weird too."

"So what are we waiting for, Compadres?!" Michelangelo hopped off the couch. "Let's go see Baxter and Irma!"

"Works for me," said Raphael.

The Turtles all headed for the door while Splinter observed. "Be careful, my students," he implored. "I suspect there is more going on here than we realize."

"A lot of people change jobs, Sensei," Leonardo blinked. "Maybe April and Burne had a big argument."

"Perhaps," Splinter agreed. "But take caution regardless, especially if you go to Channel 9. I have never cared for their broadcasts."

"Sure thing," Raphael shrugged. "We'll be careful."

xxxx

Vincent watched with interest as Barney worked with the pieces he had spread out on the long table. "Have you ever made a solid energy generator before, Buddy?"

"No, but I followed the research of the scientist that did," Barney said. "Only mine will be better and safer; I won't include a self-destruct mechanism with mine."

"That's good." Vincent hesitated. "You're not planning to stay on much longer here, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Barney looked up. "It's really too crowded. I don't like to keep regulating Baxter to the couch. And he will naturally keep insisting on doing that while we're here."

"He doesn't mind," Vincent said. "He's just happy to have us here."

"I know. And oddly enough, I haven't minded being here." Barney set the screwdriver aside, looking thoughtful.

"You love Baxter. And now you've finally accepted that fact."

"That's true. There's only love now. I'm not struggling with hate."

Another hesitation. "Barney . . . I know you haven't wanted to talk about what you were doing while you were gone, but will you tell me?"

Barney picked up the screwdriver again. "I was wandering all over Manhattan. When I left the site of the Dansing Building, I was in a daze and very ill. Some people were cruel to me. . . . They thought I was drunk or on drugs. That was about what I expected."

"That's horrible!" Vincent exclaimed. "And the irony is, you probably saved some of those people too."

"Probably." Barney shrugged but then sobered. He couldn't be flippant about what he was going to say next. "But then I found people who were willing to help me. And I kept finding such people. The majority of the people I encountered until my memory returned were kind and good." He shook his head. "I hardly ever met decent people all through the years. I thought they were an endangered species. And then when I was wandering and hurt, I ran into so many of them. Can you explain that to me, Vincent?"

"No, I can't. Unless . . . maybe before, you were looking in the wrong places for decent people."

Barney grunted. "I suppose anything's possible."

"And maybe you found them at the point when you needed them most."

That brought a scoff. "If I had found decent people before, Vincent, I might never have grown cynical and bitter enough to go bad in the first place." He stiffened. "Only . . ."

"Only you knew a decent person all along and that didn't change your mind."

Barney's shoulders slumped. ". . . Baxter was afraid to tell me about his sugar cravings," he confessed. "He apparently thought I might put him down for it. And I can't blame him in the least." He looked at his friend with sadness and regret. "I can never make up for the past, but do you really think Baxter and I can ever be close in the future?"

"I don't know, Barney," Vincent said. "For that to even have a chance of happening, both you and Baxter have to want it so much that you're willing to work on it. You each have to take the risk of opening up to the other. Do you think you can do that?"

"And have Baxter listen to my problems? I don't deserve that," Barney objected.

"Then for now, you'll just have to keep working on getting Baxter to open up to you," Vincent told him. "Just keep showing him that you're interested and that you won't put him down, and maybe slowly but surely, he will open up to you more and more."

"I'll do my best," Barney vowed.

Vincent smiled. "Then I'm sure you'll succeed."

"Maybe." Barney hesitated. ". . . The strangest thought occurred to me. Did I have an obituary?"

Vincent stared at him, then uncomfortably looked away. "Yes."

"What is it?" Barney asked. "An awkward topic since I'm alright?"

"Not exactly." Finally Vincent looked back to him. "Baxter was too heartbroken to even be able to think about writing the obituary at first. The press conference he gave left him very emotionally drained. Before he had the strength to try writing it, your mother did it."

Barney scowled. "And I suppose it sounds similar to what she said at the funeral."

"It does." Vincent watched him with wariness. "Did you . . . want to read it?"

"Not right now. Not under those circumstances. If Baxter had written it, I'd be interested. I have no desire to see our mother turn my 'death' into a platform for herself." Barney reached for a microchip. "Especially when I'm in a fairly good mood at the moment."

He had the sense that Vincent was relaxing. "I'm glad to hear that, Barney."

"That I'm in a good mood or that I don't want to read it?" Barney said dryly.

"Both," Vincent replied. "But especially the former. I haven't seen you in a lot of good moods. I like it."

"So do I," Barney mused.

xxxx

When the Turtles arrived at Channel 6, Vernon was quiet in his office and Irma and Baxter were both in Baxter's office, their eyes worried and apprehensive. They both jumped a mile at the sound of the Turtles arriving in the doorway.

"Hi, Baxter, Irma," Leonardo greeted. "What's going on?"

Irma looked to Baxter before responding. "You've heard about April, right?"

"Like, that's what we came to talk about," Michelangelo said. "She said she couldn't talk right now and said we should come see you two."

Baxter sighed and nodded. "Come in and shut the door," he said. He waited until the Turtles did so before he spoke again. "Miss O'Neil is . . . on assignment."

"Come again?" Raphael blinked. "Vernon said she was out. So did she."

Baxter leaned against his desk and folded his arms. "It's an undercover assignment. Mr. Thompson arranged the argument and Miss O'Neil quitting so that it would look believable for her to join Channel 9."

Irma nodded. "Last night he apparently got this weird anonymous note that something shady is going on at Channel 9. So he got the idea for April to try to infiltrate and find out what it is. She was all for it."

Raphael let out a breath of exasperation. "She would be."

"We're both worried that she's going to get hurt," Irma said, wringing her hands. "We can't blow her cover."

"Of course not," Leonardo said in understanding concern.

"So . . . how is this going to work?" Raphael wondered. "If she finds out what's up, how's she going to let you know?"

"She'll try to sneak away for a phone call," Irma said.

"Or maybe she'll contact you," Baxter said, looking to the Turtles.

"True. She usually does when she's in trouble," Raphael mused.

"Didn't the note say anything at all about what's supposedly going on over there?" Donatello asked.

"It didn't specify at all," Baxter said. "Mr. Thompson showed it to us."

"So . . . who else knows what's really going on?" Michelangelo wondered. "Does Vernon know?"

"Mr. Thompson was afraid he couldn't keep the secret," Irma said. "He doesn't know."

Baxter didn't look comfortable with that. "The only people who know, aside from Mr. Thompson, are in this room."

"That's probably for the best," Leonardo said. "We'll just have to hope that April won't get in trouble . . . at least, not until we can get there to help her."

"April not get in trouble?" Raphael jeered. "In what universe?"

"Now you sound like Vernon," Irma remarked.

Raphael cringed. "It's true, though," he said. "We're probably all in for a very bumpy ride."

No one could disagree with that.

xxxx

April was both exasperated and frustrated. So far she hadn't found any clue to what was happening behind the scenes at Channel 9. And the life of an anchorwoman was too dull for her. She wanted to be out in the field, gathering stories! Hopefully she could find the truth behind this story before long. She was anxious to get back to Channel 6. Especially before Vernon could become too comfortable in her job.

A bit of guilt flickered in her eyes. Vernon really thought she had left and that he was getting her job. And now, especially when he was actually trying to be nicer, she kind of felt bad about disappointing him.

Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to this assignment. She had jumped on it since Burne usually wanted her to cover flower shows or science fairs or other non-dangerous stories. For him to actually let her take a potentially intense and exciting story was very rare and she hadn't wanted to pass it up. But maybe she should have thought more about the potential fall-out. Irma and Baxter were going to be told the truth so that they would be available to help if needed, but Vernon was being left out of the loop. It hadn't been April's decision. Still, it might damage their newly budding friendship.

She sighed to herself. Sometimes she wondered why she wanted to keep working for any boss when her ideas were so often different from theirs. She had certainly entertained the thought of going freelance more than once. But for one reason or another, she stayed on at Channel 6 instead. Maybe because it was nice to work with Irma. Maybe because it was a technologically advanced place and she had all the resources she needed. Or maybe because deep down, the thought of going solo and trying to find enough work to put food on her table was a little intimidating.

Not that she doubted her abilities or that she could do it. But often times, things never went the way they should. She had learned that over and over in the workplace. And as long as she actually had a job, she was reluctant to give it up. Instead, she just wished she could find ways to make it work for her more.

Footsteps sounded down the hall and she came to attention, darting around a corner before she could be seen. She wasn't supposed to be in this corridor. But it was worth it if it would help her get her big scoop.

"Channel 9 is always gonna be on top of the ratings now," a familiar deep voice giggled. "Now that we have April O'Neil working for us."

"Yeah!" a gravelly voice crowed. "This is great. And oh, the irony!"

"Bebop and Rocksteady!" April gasped. "There really is something wrong at Channel 9!" She fled down the corridor and into a vacant office before they could reach her first hiding place. "I almost wish we did have an inside contact right now," she said wryly. "Shredder must be here too! And he must have done something with all the staff who are supposed to be here!"

She fumbled with her Turtle-Comm. But when she opened it, she was surprised to see Baxter on the screen instead of one of the Turtles. He looked equally stunned to see her. "Miss O'Neil?!"

"Oh, Dr. Stockman, we've got trouble!" April moaned. "Shredder's taken over Channel 9!"

Baxter stared. "He's determined to have a television studio, isn't he."

"That's true," April realized. "He's also tried more than once to take over Channel 6 lately!"

"And when he kept being foiled, he decided a different station might work instead." Baxter looked at April in concern. "Does he know you're on to him?"

"I hope not!" April sighed. "I just heard Bebop and Rocksteady in the hall and I figured out what must be up!"

"I don't suppose they revealed what their specific plans are," Baxter said.

"No," April frowned. "They were laughing about me joining the station. They probably haven't even stopped to think about why I'm here or what I might discover."

"Typical." Baxter paused. "I wonder if they're trying to do the same thing they tried before, with subliminal programming. If they are, Barney might know more about exactly how they're going to go about it."

"Great!" April said in relief. "Can you call and ask him? I'll try to see what else I can learn in the meantime."

"I'd be happy to." Baxter hung up and reached for his phone. As he did, an article in the newspaper on his desk about an abandoned subway station caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment and then groaned, covering his face with a hand.

Michelangelo peered into the office, several candy bars in hand and another in his mouth. "Like, what's up, Baxter?"

"A lot," Baxter said. "Miss O'Neil just called and it looks like Shredder has taken over Channel 9. He may be going to do what he tried to do here at least twice recently."

Michelangelo's eyes widened. "You mean with that sublim- . . . sublime . . . sub-thingie he wanted to do?"

"Yes, that," Baxter said with an amused smirk. But his expresion turned serious again as he looked down at the article. "I want you to get the others and be ready to go to Channel 9 after I make a telephone call to Barney that may have some relevance on this case. But first . . ." He held up the paper.

Michelangelo blinked, peering at the picture. "Hey, I remember that dump," he said. "That was where . . ." He trailed off.

"Where I held Miss O'Neil hostage and tried to gas all of you to Kingdom Come," Baxter quietly finished. "Michelangelo, why on Earth did you tell me you didn't think I'd ever wanted to kill you? Maybe you could make the excuse that I hoped you wouldn't really get hurt with any of Shredder's schemes-which I'm not sure I believe, either-but you certainly can't get around this one!"

Michelangelo shifted. "Well, I . . . guess I hoped you'd never really remember what happened there," he mumbled. Louder he said, "But anyway, Baxter, you'd merged with the fly by then and your mind was already gone. You talked about that time when you were delirious. You couldn't think straight; you just knew you were angry and hurt. Five minutes after you set things up, you couldn't even remember what you were going to do. That's not the same thing as planning a murder in your right mind."

"Oh. . . ." Baxter slumped forward, one hand on the phone and the other on his forehead.

Michelangelo came into the room and laid a hand on Baxter's shoulder. "I like to think it was the fly who wanted to do that stuff," he said. "It sure wasn't you."

"And what about when I threatened you with my clay monster?" Baxter retorted. "I was human then."

"But still not really sane," Michelangelo countered. "I think the only time we met you when you were fully sane-before a few months ago, at least-was the very first time. And anyway, about the clay monster, you said you'd probably let us go if we'd just admit that you beat us. I really don't think you wanted to kill us. You just wanted to defeat us. You'd been beat down so much by life that you just wanted to strike back."

Baxter sighed. "Barney and I are really a couple of cases, aren't we. Barney thinks he did such horrible things, but I'm certainly not guiltless either."

"Your situations make things a lot different, though," Michelangelo said.

"I suppose. But I'm haunted by what I did just as he is about himself." Baxter shook his head. "Still, I can't think about the past right now. I have to worry about this problem in the present." He picked up the phone and began to dial his apartment's number.

xxxx

Barney looked up, frowning at the phone as it rang.

"Are you going to get that?" Vincent asked. "It might be Baxter."

"Or it might be our parents," Barney countered. "I'm going to wait and let the machine get it."

After a moment the machine came on and beeped. _"Barney, it's me. If you're still there, we need your help."_

Barney immediately got up and went over to the phone. "What is it?" he asked as he hit the Speakerphone button and leaned forward with his hands spread on the chair arm.

"Shredder has taken over Channel 9," Baxter said. "He may be trying his subliminal messages scheme again. Can you tell me exactly how that was set up to work?"

"He tried different approaches both times," Barney retorted. "I'm sure you remember the preposterous version with the laser beam that was supposed to make everyone fall under the control of whatever they viewed next, assuming that would be their subliminal messages."

"Yes."

"The second time, he was simply going to play a tape with subliminal messages in it," Barney continued. "If he wants to try a subliminal message plan again, he likely has a third approach."

"Or he could have decided to try something altogether different," Baxter sighed. "But what?"

"Knowing them, it could be almost anything," Barney grunted. "But wait. How do you know he's taken over Channel 9?"

"I probably shouldn't say over the phone," Baxter said.

"Alright. Just let me know when you know more and maybe I'll have some advice for you." Barney paused. "Just _try_ not to get into anything dangerous."

"I'll try." Baxter hung up.

"So says the man who almost got himself killed blowing up a lightning gun," Vincent said.

"Just because I do dangerous things doesn't mean I'm alright with Baxter doing them," Barney retorted.

"And Baxter would probably say the same thing about you," Vincent remarked.

Barney grunted.

xxxx

April was relieved when she emerged from the office and didn't see Bebop or Rocksteady. She hurried back the way she had come and slipped into the studio.

Dennis Banks, the other anchor, looked up. "Where were you, Miss O'Neil?" he asked. "The evening news will be on before long."

"I was . . . exploring," April stammered. "This building is so much larger than Channel 6's. I'm fascinated."

Dennis seemed to accept that explanation. "It is a great place," he said. "But there'll be plenty of time for exploring later. Here's the lineup of news stories for tonight." He handed her a sheet of paper.

April scanned the list. Everything seemed normal and harmless, until she reached the final item on the list. "'All hail Master Shredder'?! What's this?"

Dennis smiled. "Well, we need to properly honor our leader."

"Shredder runs this station?!" April pretended to be shocked. "Don't you know he's a bad guy?"

"Of course we know," Dennis said. "But we don't care."

"Well, _I_ care!" April snapped. "You surely know I've reported against Shredder for years. How did I even get this job?!"

A tall, imposing figure appeared in the doorway. "Because, Miss O'Neil, with a show of support from you, I can get many of the city's populace to turn to my side. The only thing better would be if the Turtles pledged their support to me as well."

"That's never going to happen, Shredder, with them or me!" April fumed. She took a step back. Shredder must be planning to put her under some kind of control. She had to get out of here. . . .

"Oh, I think it will." The smirk behind the mask was all but audible. "At least with you. And probably with them when they come to rescue you."

Now April realized that Dennis was coming towards her with a sneer. She threw the news item list in his face and turned to run out a different doorway. "Not on your life!" This time, she wasn't going to get caught. . . . She wasn't going to get caught. . . .

To her relief and surprise, Bebop and Rocksteady were not waiting outside that door. She slammed it shut and fled down the hall, her heart thumping frantically in her chest. Shredder and Dennis would be right behind her. Worse, they knew this building and she didn't. She dove through a door at the end of the hall.

"Hi, kids!" a huge brown bear giggled on a stage. "What time is it?"

"Muffy the Friendly Bear Time!" shouted the kids in the audience.

April slapped her forehead. "Oh great. I'm right in the middle of some silly kids' show." What was worse, she might not be safe even there. Everyone in the building might be under Shredder's control and would help him if he asked them to.

Deciding not to take any chances, she slipped to the side and sneaked down the stairs, then around the corner, past the bewildered cameramen, and towards the backstage area. No one seemed to be around. When she heard a door opening on the other side of the studio, she panicked. It might not be Shredder, but then again it might.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she grumbled as she climbed into a spare Muffy suit and backed up against the wall so she couldn't be seen through the unzipped costume back. Under the circumstances, it seemed the safest place to hide for a while.

She fumbled in the hot and stuffy darkness before managing to get out her Turtle-Comm. "Come in, someone," she whispered. "Anyone!"

"April?!" Leonardo looked stunned. "Where are you?!"

"You don't want to know," April moaned. "Just please get down here right away! Shredder knows I'm here. He's known all along! Apparently I got this job because he wanted to put me under his control so I'd announce my support of him on the news! I'm even wondering if he's the one who sent that anonymous note to Burne in the first place!"

"Uh oh. We'll be down there as soon as possible," Leonardo promised. "Just try not to get caught."

"You don't know how hard I'm trying," April muttered.

"Uh, April?" Michelangelo blinked. "What's that music in the background? Something about flowers and butterflies being beautiful?"

"Just get down here!" April snapped. She shut the Turtle-Comm and slumped against the wall. "Oh . . . I can't last in here much longer. I'll have to make a break for it in the next few minutes and hope for the best."

She scowled as the cutesy song continued. "I wonder if I can even last a few minutes," she said dryly.

xxxx

The Turtles, Baxter, and Irma were rushing to the elevators as soon as the call disconnected. Hearing all the noise, Vernon peered out of his office. "What's going on?" he frowned. "Where are you all off to in such a hurry?"

Irma looked back over her shoulder. "We've gotta go rescue April!" she said. "Shredder's running Channel 9!"

"Oh, so that's why it's such an irritating network," Vernon sniffed. He paused. "April's really in danger?"

"That's right," Raphael said. They arrived at the elevators and he waited with impatience as Baxter pressed the button.

"Well . . . you probably have it under control," Vernon said, his tone halting.

Baxter looked to him. "If you want to come along, Mr. Fenwick, we could always use more help where Shredder is involved."

Vernon glanced nervously over his shoulder. "I suppose I should probably stay here. . . . Lots to do. . . . Although if Shredder is running Channel 9, I imagine April will be coming back?"

"She would have been anyway," Raphael retorted. "It was a scam, Vernon. Just an undercover operation she and Burne fixed up."

Baxter shot Raphael a Look.

Vernon flinched. "A scam?! And no one told me?!"

Irma looked down. "We're sorry, Vernon. Mr. Thompson insisted on you not knowing."

"He felt that it would look more authentic if most people believed Miss O'Neil had truly quit," Baxter said quietly. "It wasn't our choice."

"Dr. Stockman kept insisting that you could keep the secret," Irma said.

Vernon frowned. "Mr. Thompson is probably right," he said, sounding strangely subdued. "I most likely couldn't have. At least, not believably."

"Can we just get going here?!" Raphael exclaimed in impatient frustration.

"Wait a minute, Raphael," Baxter retorted. "Mr. Fenwick, you're an excellent actor or you couldn't have fooled people with your defenses all these years. I believe you could have successfully kept up this ruse."

Vernon shifted. ". . . Did April want to let me know?"

"She thought all the people she deals with the most should know," Irma said.

The elevator arrived and the Turtles began piling inside. Baxter and Irma lingered.

"We need to go," Baxter said. "Will you come?"

Vernon hesitated. ". . . I should probably just enjoy the rest of my time as Channel 6's star reporter while I can," he stammered.

"We're going now, Vernon," Irma said. "Either come on or stay back."

Vernon hesitated again but then ran forward, mini-camera in hand, and hurried into the elevator before the doors could close. "I just realized," he said. "This is probably the biggest story right now, so that's where Channel 6's star reporter should go."

"Only it's April's story," Irma sighed, rolling her eyes.

Baxter studied Vernon as the elevator descended. It was certainly typical of the tricks Vernon had pulled in the past. Right now, however, Baxter wasn't sure if this was another trick or if Vernon was just using that as an excuse to come along because he couldn't bring himself to say he was worried about April.

Baxter would give Vernon the benefit of a doubt. Especially since Burne seemed to have so little faith in him.

xxxx

April slipped down the corridor, the sounds of Muffy the Friendly Bear fading behind her. "Oh, I couldn't take any more of that stupid show!" she muttered to herself. "I just hope I won't regret leaving the studio. . . ."

"Oh, April!" came Rocksteady's voice up ahead. "Why don't you come out and play?"

"We really want to see you," Bebop added.

"Well, I sure don't want to see either of them!" April scowled.

She ducked into another door. This one also led to a studio, but it was dark and empty. She tiptoed past the rows of bleachers and onto the stage. "This is getting monotonous."

"April!" Rocksteady opened the door leading into the studio.

April gasped. There was only barely enough time to dive under the closed curtain before he walked into the room. The curtain was still moving and she could do nothing about it. _I'll just have to hope they're not smart enough to make sense of that,_ she thought to herself.

"She's not in here," Bebop said, coming to the door as well. "We might as well move on."

"Wait a minute." Rocksteady moved farther into the room, studying it with narrowed eyes. "That curtain's moving." He stormed over and climbed on the stage. "April! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" He yanked the curtain to the side and stared at the emptiness beyond. "Hey, she's not here!" he whined.

"The curtain must have been moving from the wind when you opened the door," Bebop said.

"Yeah, I guess so." Rocksteady thrust the curtain away and hopped off the stage. "Let's keep goin'. The boss is gonna be real mad if we don't find her."

Hiding in an empty trunk, April gave a sigh of relief when the heavy footsteps faded and the door slammed shut. "That was too close," she whispered. "Maybe I should just stay here for a while." But almost immediately she frowned. "No. I've never hidden from anything in my life!" She lifted the lid and started to climb out. "I'll just keep going. There has to be a way out of this building!"

She found the back exit and opened the door a crack. Upon finding the hallway deserted, she opened it more and crept out.

"There she is!" Shredder boomed.

April whipped around to look. Shredder had just arrived at the head of the corridor to her right. "What terrible timing!" she fumed, frustrated at both him and herself. She ran back into the studio and out the door she had come in. Then, going across the hall, she darted into a conference room.

This one was occupied. Everyone in the meeting looked up, startled as she made her entrance.

"Oh, sorry!" she said, waving to them while running the length of the room. She fled through a back exit and found herself in a back hallway. It seemed deserted enough, but now she didn't want to take any more chances. The next room she found with places to hide, she should just stay there until help came.

If she would ever find another such room. . . .

xxxx

The Channel 9 receptionist looked up with a start as the strange group burst through the front doors. "Who are you?" she asked, her Queens accent filled with wariness.

"We're looking for April O'Neil," Leonardo declared. "Where is she?"

"Well, she _should_ be getting ready for the evening news broadcast," the receptionist blinked. "She's gonna come out with her support of Master Shredder."

 _"What?!"_ they all cried.

"The whole station supports him," she shrugged.

"Mondo bizarro," Michelangelo gasped. "They all must be under some kind of mind-control!"

"We hope," Donatello frowned.

Vernon stared at him. "You can't really believe that someone like Shredder would have so many genuine supporters!"

Leonardo sighed. "The fact is, we don't really know how many supporters he has. We know he tricked the entire Foot Clan into following him in Japan."

"Hmph," Vernon grunted. "I say they must have been bad eggs to begin with, since they all quite willingly got into crime with him. I don't know why your Master Splinter would even want them back."

"For that matter, what if _they're_ all under mind-control?" Baxter suggested. "Maybe Shredder met Krang while he was still in Japan."

"I don't think so," Leonardo mused. "The Technodrome was stranded here, in New York. I don't think Shredder met Krang until he followed Hamato Yoshi over here." He shook his head. "But anyway, we have to worry about April right now."

"The news studio is on the 13th floor," the receptionist said.

"Of course," Raphael groaned. "It _would_ have to be there."

They headed for the elevator and Leonardo pressed the button for the 13th level. "April probably isn't in the news studio, unless she was caught and taken back there," he said. "She might not even be on the same level anymore."

"Well, there's an easy way to find out." Raphael pulled out the Turtle-Comm.

"Haven't there ever been problems where one of these goes off at a highly inopportune moment and brings down unwelcome attention on the person using it?" Baxter wondered.

"Actually, yes," Donatello admitted. "There's a Silent mode for situations like that. And I've been thinking of making a Vibrate mode like cell phones have."

"April doesn't seem to use the Silent mode," Leonardo remembered. "Maybe you'd better not call her, Raphael, at least not yet. We'll get up to that floor and see if she's still free before trying to use the Turtle-Comm."

The 13th floor certainly seemed to be in a state of havoc when they arrived. People were scurrying about, stacks of folders and papers in hand, as they dashed from one room to another. No one paid the slightest bit of attention to the new group.

"Wow," said Irma. "It looks just like Channel 6 when a deadline is due."

"That doesn't look normal!" Leonardo pointed to where Bebop and Rocksteady were tramping in and out of rooms in a hallway up ahead, still calling for April.

"Well, at least now we know she's still free," said Raphael.

A door flew open up ahead and April ran out. Spotting the group, she sprinted over in relief. "Guys! I didn't think I could hold them off any longer!"

"Yep, that's us," said Raphael. "Always with impeccable timing."

"April!" Irma exclaimed. "Are you okay?!"

"I am now!" April took her place with the group, just as Bebop and Rocksteady came to attention.

"Hey! Now the Turtles are here!" Bebop cried.

"We'd better tell the boss." Rocksteady took out his comm-link. "Oh Boss? The Turtles showed up to save April O'Neil. Her friends from Channel 6 are here too."

"Excellent!" Shredder purred. "We can get them all at once."

"So what's Can Head going to do?" Raphael demanded. "Another mind-control device?"

"Somethin' like that," Rocksteady said as he hung up. "We'll just keep you here until the boss shows up with it!"

He and Bebop lunged. So did the Turtles. Alarmed, Baxter dodged out of the fight and took April's wrist to pull her along too. Vernon and Irma swiftly followed.

"Are we going to try to get out of here?" Vernon hopefully asked.

"I've still got a story to finish!" April objected. "I can't leave without the finale!"

"Ordinarily I would protest, but I don't trust my ability to get us out of this building safely without the Turtles' help," Baxter said. "We could be accosted by mind-controlled staff members on the way down. The only reason we got up here so easily is because Shredder wanted us to come."

Irma gulped. "I guess you're right. It makes an awful kind of sense, anyway."

April looked to Vernon. "Vernon, you've got a camera! Why aren't you filming any of this?"

Vernon watched as Bebop soared overhead. "Well, it's rather old news by now, isn't it? We're always airing film of the Turtles fighting against these two!"

"It's still part of what's happening here!" April retorted. "Come on, Vernon, let's film it!" She pulled off the lens cap.

Vernon scowled. " _I'm_ Channel 6's star reporter right now, as far as the viewing public knows. I decide what to film!"

"But I'm still really Channel 6's star reporter!" April said in frustration. "And the viewing public is going to know that tonight!"

"Then you should have brought your own camera!" Vernon retorted.

Irma slapped her forehead. "Oh brother!"

Baxter massaged his temples. "You're both acting like children," he scolded. "This is hardly the time for . . ." But he trailed off. Maybe Vernon was once again acting out because of hurt. Guilt flashed in his eyes.

April seemed to be thinking along similar lines. "Vernon, I'm sorry you weren't told what was going on," she said in all sincerity. "I didn't want Mr. Thompson to leave you out."

Vernon shrugged. "You had a chance you've always wanted-to get a big scoop. Of course you'd take it, no matter the stipulations. I would have, in your place."

"No, you wouldn't have," April sighed. "Not as soon as you'd learn it could be dangerous. And okay, so Mr. Thompson didn't trust you with the secret. The rest of us would have trusted you."

"And that's saying something," Irma said.

"I suppose you're right," Vernon relented. "Alright, April, if you really want this particular fight between the Turtles and these other mutants, I'll . . ."

"It's Shredder!" April cried.

Vernon's knees knocked at the sight of the supervillain clomping to the end of the corridor. His hands shaking, he held up his camera and began to film.

"So, Turtles!" Shredder sneered. "Now it's time for you to fall at my knees and grovel!" He held up a strange ray gun.

Donatello aimed his bo like a javelin and took the gun right out of Shredder's hand. "Not a chance, Shredder!"

Baxter dived forward and caught it. "How many people here are under your control?" he demanded, pointing it at Shredder. Part of him wasn't sure how he had the courage to do that. Maybe partially because the Turtles were there. Maybe because he knew that at the moment, he had the upper hand. Or maybe . . . maybe because he was angry about the lightning gun. He hadn't seen Shredder since that disaster.

"Everyone, of course," Shredder sneered, not bothered by Baxter holding the ray gun on him. "It will take you hours to change them all back."

"Maybe not, if we throw the ray gun in reverse and hook it up to a transmitter," Donatello replied.

"And Baxter, you're feeling so bold tonight," Shredder mocked. "That's not a sight I expected to see."

"You've seen it before," Baxter snapped. "Maybe even at times when you didn't know it was me. Your last scheme almost killed my brother. You can't think I'd feel good about that."

"Ah, but it was your _traitorous_ brother's own fault that he almost died." Shredder took a menacing step forward. "Do you remember what happened when you betrayed me, Baxter? You'd acted so brave and bold, but once the Eye of Sarnoth was gone, you were a sniveling idiot again. So defeated, so ashamed, so broken. And I was so good to take you back."

"Shut up!" Raphael snapped. He started to run forward, but Bebop, Rocksteady, and several mind-controlled employees began to surround him and the other Turtles.

"You only took me back because you had to," Baxter bitterly muttered. "There wasn't anyone else you could use."

"I wonder how Barney is feeling right now," Shredder continued.

Baxter wavered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I wonder if he's feeling defeated . . . ashamed . . . broken." Shredder came to stand right in front of him. "I wonder what he would say if I offered to take him back."

April gasped.

"Don't listen to him, Dude!" Michelangelo pleaded. "He's just messing with you!"

Baxter didn't look over, but he heard his friend's words. "You wouldn't want him back," he retorted to Shredder. "You didn't even want him there after the first time you failed after he joined you!"

"But what if I used this ray gun on him?" Shredder started to reach for it. "Then he would obey me without question. No more annoying talking back. No more betrayals." He paused. "And no more love for you."

 _"No!"_ Baxter pulled the trigger. The rays emanated from the gun, hitting Shredder squarely in the forehead. He stumbled back, his eyes blank.

"What is your command?" he intoned.

Baxter rose to his full height, which of course wasn't very much compared to Shredder's. But he glowered up at his enemy as he replied with all the protective fury of a loving sibling. "Leave my brother alone!"

"Yes, Master," Shredder mumbled.

"Shredder!" Krang caterwauled from the comm-link. "What are you doing?! Why did you waste time provoking Baxter in the first place?!"

Baxter snatched the comm-link out of Shredder's belt. "Because he thought he could intimidate and frighten me," he hissed. "More than that, he wanted to have a little 'fun' with me. I've always been a thorn in his side. Maybe he thought I would fall apart and he could easily take the gun back. And now that I finally have my brother back, that was the most idiotic move he could have made." He shoved the comm-link into Shredder's hand.

Bebop and Rocksteady ran over. "Hey! We don't take kindly to what you've done to the boss," Rocksteady growled.

"Yeah." Bebop grabbed the ray gun and tried to wrench it out of Baxter's hands. "Now we're gonna use this on you!"

Baxter held fast, lifting off the floor as Bebop continued to pull on the gun.

Rocksteady ran over to grab him around the waist. "Come on! Let go!"

April leaped up. "Oh no, you don't!" She jumped on Rocksteady's back while Irma hit Bebop with her handbag.

"Hey!" the mutants yelled in frustration. "Cut it out!"

"No way!" April retorted.

Vernon stared. "Now this really _is_ a story," he exclaimed. But his eyes filled with worry for Baxter. If April and Irma weren't enough to help, he would have to jump into the fray.

"Alright!" Leonardo cried. Finally he and the other Turtles pushed their way through the mind-controlled employees without harming them. "This is going to stop here and now!"

The sight of the Turtles with weapons bared, more than ready to start a second round of fighting, was enough to frighten Rocksteady and Bebop into retreating. "Okay, you win," Bebop snapped. He and Rocksteady let go of Baxter and the gun and they crashed to the floor. Then, running forward, the renegade mutants grabbed Shredder by the arms and dragged him towards the elevator. "Krang'll have something to get the boss back to normal." The Turtles gave chase, but the villains reached the elevator first and the doors slammed shut.

Raphael growled in frustration. "By the time we get to the bottom, they'll have gotten away!"

"Well, like, that's nothing new," Michelangelo said.

Baxter knelt on the floor, staring at the ray gun in a daze. Finally he picked it up. "I . . . can't believe I did that. . . ."

April knelt next to him. "You were wonderful, Dr. Stockman!" she said, laying her hand on his shoulder.

Baxter looked up at her. "I . . . I just couldn't let him hurt Barney," he whispered. "Maybe he didn't mean it . . . maybe he was just trying to torment me . . . but I couldn't take that chance. . . ."

"You did everything just right." April looked at the gun. "And now we have to rescue everyone he put under his control."

"I'll set it in reverse." Baxter adjusted the controls.

"And I'll hook it up to a transmitter," Donatello said. "But first, I'll free these people here." He took the gun from Baxter and pointed it at the stupefied crowd waiting for their next command. Once the rays hit them, they stood blinking, bewildered.

"What were we doing?" said one.

"Aren't we supposed to be getting ready for a broadcast?" said another.

"You sure are," Leonardo said. "Only now it will be a real news broadcast, without any hailing of Shredder."

"Shredder?!" everyone yelped. "Why would we hail him?!"

"Because he took over the station and mind-controlled all of you!" April cried. She stood. "And now I need to give my resignation and get back to where I belong."

Michelangelo watched her go and then knelt next to Baxter. "Hey, you're okay, aren't you, Bud?"

"I just wonder," Baxter said quietly. "Did I do what a 'good guy' should do? I acted out of anger and rage . . . and panic."

"And love, Dude," Michelangelo added. "Especially out of love." He draped an arm around Baxter's shoulders. "And in my book, that is totally A-OK."

Baxter finally nodded. "You're right. It was out of love more than anything else. But love . . . can make people do frightening things sometimes."

"I guess that's true," Michelangelo said. "But you were protecting your bro from a mondo real threat. And it's not like Shred-Head won't be okay. Krang'll have something to fix him up and then he'll be back to causing trouble again."

Baxter sighed and got to his feet. "What if Shredder or Krang really tries to take revenge on Barney?" he worried. "Maybe that will always be something we'll have to worry about."

Michelangelo stood too. "I don't think Shred-Head would be too interested, since he didn't even want Barney around for most of the time," he said. "He's probably always telling Krang 'I told you so.'"

"And Krang?" Baxter prompted.

". . . I'm not sure about Krang," Michelangelo admitted. "Usually he's not big on the revenge bit, but if he really feels like he's been personally humiliated or inconvenienced . . ."

Baxter nodded, still concerned. "I'd better warn Barney. He . . . he's probably going back to his house tonight."

"He has a house?" Michelangelo blinked.

Baxter had to smile. "It's a mansion, run almost entirely by high-tech gadgets and computers. Barney designed most of the electronics himself."

"No way!" Michelangelo's eyes were wide now. "And he wanted to leave all that?"

"He . . . was never happy there," Baxter said quietly. "He hated being alone, but he didn't feel there was anyone to share it with. Now, he has someone." He looked thoughtfully off into the distance. "And I'm happy for both of them."

Michelangelo frowned. "But . . . then you'll be all alone again."

"No." Baxter shook his head. "I won't be. Not anymore."

xxxx

Krang glowered as the transport module arrived and Bebop and Rocksteady emerged dragging a blank Shredder between them. "Shredder, you idiot!" he snapped. "You never should have threatened Baxter with his brother's safety!"

"I guess the boss didn't think Baxter would get so mad," Bebop said. "I kinda didn't either. It's Barney who's got the temper."

"Baxter loves his brother," Krang retorted. "He thought Barney was dead. Now he has Barney back alive and well. And you don't think even he could get defensive and protective if threatened with Barney's safety after all that?!"

"That makes sense," Bebop said.

"Aren't you mad or anything at Barney, Krang?" Rocksteady asked.

" _Mad_ doesn't even begin to describe it," Krang said darkly. "I'll be getting back at Barney. But I have my own way to do it. A way that will target Barney through something he loves very much."

Bebop didn't look so enthused. "What way is that, Krang?"

"You'll find out," Krang said in a sing-song voice. Then he sobered and glared at Shredder. "For now, bring him along so I can figure out how to get him out of this mess."

xxxx

"This has been April O'Neil, reporting once again from Channel 6. And may I say, it's good to be back." April winked at the camera as the broadcast ended.

"That was great, April," Leonardo smiled.

"It's great to have you back, Dudette," Michelangelo declared. "I didn't wanna switch to watching Channel 9."

"And I don't think I ever want to be exclusively a news anchor and sit behind a desk," April sighed, walking around the desk. "Vernon is welcome to it! I'd rather stay an investigative reporter."

"By the way, how did Vernon like how you resolved that problem about whose story it was?" Raphael asked.

"Oh, he was actually pretty nice about things," April said. "He was okay with letting me have the story as long as he got the credit for filming that intense footage. Believe it or not, he really is hurt about Mr. Thompson not wanting to tell him what was going on."

"That's not so hard to believe," Leonardo said.

"Yeah. Especially if you substitute 'insulted' for 'hurt,'" Raphael said.

"He's probably both," April said. "I feel sorry for him." She paused. "Is Dr. Stockman feeling better?"

"I think he's worried about Barney," Donatello said. "Shredder might not be planning to do anything to him, but Krang might."

Now April looked worried too. "You really think so?"

"I don't think we should count out the possibility," Leonardo said. "But let's hope nothing more happens tonight."

"Krang will probably be too busy reversing the mind-control on Shredder," April giggled.

"Unless he decides to have some fun first," Raphael smirked. "Imagine, he could make Shredder obey him without any complaints. He might not want to reverse it!"

"Only Shredder would probably fail anyway," Leonardo said.

"And he might not even respond to Krang," Donatello pointed out. "He might only obey Baxter."

"Now there's some poetic justice for you," Michelangelo said. "That sounds bodacious. Baxter could tell him to go away and never come back again." He laughed.

"It'd be nice if it was that simple," Leonardo said.

"Wouldn't it," April said with a wry smile.

xxxx

Baxter was exhausted when he arrived home and and climbed the stairs to his apartment. He really didn't feel much like getting to work on Barney's home tonight, he had to admit. And even though April and Irma lived in the building too, Baxter wasn't sure he wanted to walk into an empty apartment right now. Or maybe it was less that and more that he didn't like the thought of Barney and Vincent leaving without Baxter getting to see them again first.

He was happy when he opened the door and found them both still there.

"Hi, Baxter!" Vincent chirped.

"Hello," Baxter smiled.

Barney affixed him with a deadpan look. "We didn't hear from you again. I took that to mean that my help wasn't needed."

"We managed," Baxter said vaguely. He shut and locked the door behind him. "Barney . . . have you thought about the possibility of Shredder or Krang wanting revenge on you?"

Barney looked away. "I have. Did Shredder mention it?"

"Yes, he did." Baxter frowned. "But he might have just been trying to rattle me."

"What if he wasn't?" Vincent worried.

"Then we'll deal with it." Barney stood.

Baxter liked that Barney hadn't said _I._ "Did you finish the solid energy generator?" he wondered.

"Yes." Barney slipped it into the proper slot in the laptop.

Baxter watched in fascinated amazement as Vincent willed an energy-generated body into being. This was the first time Baxter had seen such a thing in his right mind. The other time, he had been too far gone to really appreciate such a technological wonder.

Vincent leaped down from the table, admiring the results. "Finally, I can move again!" he exclaimed. He looked to Barney in all sincerity. "Thank you, Buddy."

"I was glad to do it," Barney said.

"It really is incredible," Baxter said. "I'm very impressed."

"And there's no danger of Vincent being hurt if he uses it," Barney said. "Mine doesn't come with a self-destruct mechanism."

"Good." Baxter looked from him to Vincent. "So . . . what are you going to do about going back to your house?"

Barney glanced at the clock. "I'd like to go," he said. "We were waiting for you to come back first. However, I don't want to bother with fixing the place up tonight. I just want to go there to sleep. Maybe it doesn't even need as much fixing up as I think. I've only been gone several months."

Vincent looked to Barney before speaking. "Why don't you stay overnight with us, Baxter?" he asked hopefully. "Just for tonight."

Baxter smiled a bit. "Maybe I will," he mused. "If that's really alright with you, Barney. . . ."

Barney shrugged. "We haven't tried to strangle each other yet."

Vincent sighed, seeing Baxter's stunned expression. "Barney," he scolded.

"Nevermind. I know it was a joke." Baxter headed into the kitchen.

"But a bad one," Barney scowled. He folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm guessing that you don't have any food at your house," Baxter said. "So why don't we have dinner here and then go over?"

Barney nodded. "Makes sense."

Baxter washed his hands and set about preparing something to eat. He smiled to himself as he worked. It had probably been Vincent's idea to wait, but either way he was touched. And he rather liked the idea of staying over. He doubted they would ever feel that living together was a feasible idea, but just being invited to visit was big. Things were getting so much better between them. He hoped it would last; he never wanted to go back to how it had been before.

Barney observed for a moment before going into the kitchen, Vincent following. "Can we . . . do anything to help?" Barney asked. His voice was gruff and awkward, but sincere.

"Yes, you can," Baxter said.

He enjoyed giving them assignments and watching them carry them out. It really felt like they were all a family. A highly unconventional one, but Baxter was finding more and more that he couldn't care less about convention. So far, the best families he had ever met were unconventional.


End file.
